


rest is for the weary (but the weary don't have time)

by alexanderlightweight



Series: Words of October 2019 [4]
Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Angst and Feels, BAMF Alec Lightwood, Blood Magic, Desperate Alec Lightwood, For Ritual Purposes, Heavy Angst, Hopeful Ending, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, M/M, Magnus Bane in Edom, Rituals, sentient magic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-02
Updated: 2019-10-02
Packaged: 2020-11-15 01:22:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,387
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20857892
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alexanderlightweight/pseuds/alexanderlightweight
Summary: What are dreams but the torment of memories passing through shaking hands?  Why sleep only to wake and find that the lover in your dreams was still lost in life?Whumptober Day 1: Shaky Hands





	rest is for the weary (but the weary don't have time)

It had been weeks, nearing months of near tortuous hours spent scouring books and scrolls. Consulting Catarina when she had the time and when she didn’t, sending fire messages and working with whatever Warlocks were available. 

They all agreed on one thing. They could send Alec to Edom, but they had no way to secure his survival. 

Izzy had tried to cross into Edom through fae means, but had been caught and refused further passage. Since her return she’d turned her mind to a cure for the heavenly fire in her veins.

Simon refused to help him and once it got out, among the vampires that their revered Daylighter was refusing, none of them would. No bribe was worth anything to those trapped by the dark when it meant antagonizing the one with the key to sunlight. 

Simon, whom Magnus had helped time and time again, refused to do it. Claiming trauma and that Alec wasn’t thinking it through but Alec knew the truth. He knew that it wasn’t any of those reasons that stayed Simon’s fangs.

It was Isabelle and the hushed, fervent and frantically desperate conversation he’d overheard her having with Simon. The fear of losing her big brother, so close to almost losing everyone dear to her. So close to when the Owl had almost killed him.

Clary had a solution, one that she’d tested with Simon and that had worked. Their team had been ready, prepared to go and then Jonathon had struck. Had decimated Institutes, attacking them at random and while, when confronted the Heavenly fire in Izzy’s blood held him off, it was Clary channeling that fire that destroyed him. 

Isabelle had been near death and Clary, frantic with worry and care had gone once again against the will of the Angels, bringing Izzy back from near death to life and purging her of the fire. 

For a price.

Now, with everyone mourning Clary’s exile to the mundane world, of his family only Alec remained constant in his worry for Magnus’ safety. It took conferring with both Catarina and Lorenzo -who still owed him a favor- before they finally found a viable solution.

Without Magnus to draw a rune on, Alec had no one to tie himself to. Without Clary, no one was willing or reckless enough to try out the Alliance rune and Catarina couldn’t risk leaving Madzie, not that Alec would never ask her to.

Instead, he found himself watching as Catarina opened a vault in Magnus’ loft. Catarina using his blood to unlock the chest within and bringing forth a vial of Magnus’ own blood, a jar of sand from Edom and a small, glowing blue orb.

“What is all this for?” Alec had asked softly, enthralled by what he instinctively knew to be his fiancé’s magic. 

“No doubt,” Catarina’s voice wavered, “before he found you in Alicante, he must have done this as a precaution. This, for a warlock powerful enough, this would ensure that no one would ever be able to take his magic away, not for good. It’s a very painful process, to extract magic like this. Especially from oneself, to do so takes incredible talent.” It was telling, that next to them Lorenzo said nothing, just nodded in wide eyed but silent agreement, “it hasn’t been done in centuries. A ritual near lost to time, sacred even for us and the only way for you to help him.”

Alec had numbed his parabatai rune with both his stele and Lorenzo’s magic. Catarina had offered to do it, but he trusted her magic more and needed it saved for the more dangerous part of their plan. 

The ritual.

They mixed his blood with Magnus’. Binding it with the sand from Edom and containing it in a basin made from adamas. The conflicting nature of their blood fought while Alec prepared and Catarina drew sigils on the floor. The alliance rune needed someone to bind him to, so he would bind himself to Magnus.

If not for Magnus’ magic, he might not have done it. To take another choice away from Magnus, once again using the excuse that it was to save him, wasn’t something Alec was sure he was willing to do. Though, desperate men do desperate things and once again he was at the pinnacle of very tall cliff. Thankfully, it was a decision he didn’t have to make, Magnus’ magic would make it for him and if this failed, he would find another way. 

Now, with blood dripping from his wrist and a stele in his hand, standing in a circle of blood and sand and power, Magnus’ magic made the choice. It circled him, feeling both familiar and foreign at the same time. A contradiction but also so quintessentially Magnus that when it washed over him, he welcomed it.

His hands shook, exhaustion, blood-loss and desperation so intertwined that he worried for a moment he would fail. Instead, blue magic steadied his grip, capturing the tremors of his muscles and releasing them into the air as he branded his wrist with the rune for Alliance. 

The skies shook but a little, the Angels having no interest in the affairs of Nephilim who were not their chosen vessels. 

No voices reprimanded him, no lights were put out and the rune stayed put. A stark golden sigil, veined with sapphire thread and oh how it burnt.

He felt it stronger than any rune he’d ever bore. It tore into him, learnt him from the inside out and he knew that even if the rune faded, it would forever be imprinted on his heart and soul. 

“Alec?” Cat asked cautiously, “Alec how are you feeling?” 

“Different,” Alec admitted, blinking eyes that felt too tired, “tired but I feel like I never need to sleep again.” 

“Undoubtedly, that’s the effect of magic coursing through a body so uncultured and unused to such a magnificent power.” Lorenzo said primly, looking at him coolly.

Magic sparked through his shaking fingers, angrily snapping towards Lorenzo and Alec tried unsuccessfully to call it back. It wasn’t until he rubbed at his engagement band, agitation growing as he pressed it against his finger, that it came back to him. Loving, adoring blue warmth that crept through his fingers and curled protectively around his ring, as though protecting it from the world. 

“Yes well,” Lorenzo coughed and straightened his jacket, “it seems you’ve found a focus Mr. Lightwood, now. It appears we have proof enough that Magnus’ has accepted, temporarily at least, this bond. It’s time for you to go. You’ll need to find your fiancé immediately, just to make sure nothing went wrong with the ritual.” 

Alec nodded, leaving the circle and accepting the potion that Cat handed him and then pulling on his weapons. Catarina offered to clean him up, her magic reaching out to take away the blood and grime and Magnus’ magic quickly took over. Even going so far as to straightening the collar of his jacket and smoothing away the wrinkles in the leather. 

It lit up, almost from the inside when he neared the pentagon form. Flames licked greedily at the edges of his way to Edom and Magnus’ magic sang with delight in his veins. He could feel it, a tether connecting him to something beyond and within. More than desire and hope, instinct demanded he go through with it, he could hardly feel the weariness of his exhaustion with magic carrying his weight for him.

It wanted him to go, it longed for him, for _them_ to be reunited to Magnus. That simple truth he knew. He and Magnus’ magic, they belonged nowhere but by Magnus’ side and by his side they would remain, even if that meant in Edom.

Catarina said something, her voice loud and alarmed but Alec couldn’t make out the words. The fire burned him and he screamed but even as it ate at his flesh, the pain faded. The first thing he did when he landed was clench his hands, shaking and desperate, digging nails into his palms to try and clear his head from the pain and disorientation of the journey. 

“Alexander,” he heard, Magnus voice calling to him, finding him and a hand gripping his own as another pressed against his chest, “Alexander you’re here.” 

He slept. 

**Author's Note:**

> I'm on tumblr as [alexanderlightweight](https://alexanderlightweight.tumblr.com)


End file.
